Statistics
We looked inside some of the posts by laztpictureshow and here's what we found interesting.
Average Info
Notes Per Post
84
Likes Per Post
64
Reblog Per Post
20
Reply Per Post
0
Time Between Posts
2 months ago
Number of Posts By Type
Text
15
Photo
2
Last Seen Tumblr Blogs
Fun Fact
Tumblr has 411 employees.
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Two thousand shorties wanna tie the knot, ayy, yeah Two hundred shooters on my brother's block, whoa, yeah Petal off a rose like, I love her not, maybe not I don't know what's wrong with me, I can't stop, whoa, yeah Won't stop, whoa, yeah, never stop Got so many opps, I be mistakin' opps for other opps Got so many people that I love out of troubled spots Other than the family I got, it's either you or me That's just how I think, it's either you or me This life got too deep for you, baby
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Cocoa, FL
circa 2010
by me
notes:
this is a film photo from the first short i ever directed. we rented out these dingy hotel rooms in some backwater called cocoa, right next to cocoa beach—if that matters. needed space, so we yanked the bed and mattress into the next room where we did makeup, prepped, and drank. always drinking.
the cast? amateurs. just some bodies i’d picked up, like this guy here (name slips me now, yeah, i’m a bastard). the other was a kid i knew from high school in texas, of all places. he randomly showed up at some dive bar in orlando. fate, or just dumb luck, but who gives a damn.
day of the shoot, i woke up to brad, my friend and shooter, banging on my door. he brought me a red bull and some powder we’d scored in miami, and that was that—off to the races, no questions asked.
the film? who the hell knows where it is now. probably lost on some fried hard drive from 2010, like a lot of things. i’d still like to see it again, though. it was about these two idiots trying to pull off a drug deal, and of course, it all goes to hell because they’re a couple of amateurs—maybe a little too close to the bone. we used fake blood, tried to light it, made something happen.
godard said, "all you need for a movie is a gun and a girl."
me? i had a gun and a pile of real money. a classmate’s granddad was some hollywood big shot, and he yanked a stack of cash from an atm, handed it over. "don’t lose it," he said. sure, like that was even an option.
and that was it. i was hooked.
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Panama City, FL
circa 2016
shot by my friend Chase
notes:
it was around 3am, maybe later, and we were shooting pool, buying weed at some rundown billiards bar his friend owned. the kind of place where the felt on the tables is worn thin and the lights buzz like they’re seconds away from cutting out. before that, we’d caught hell at a country bar for feeding the digital jukebox a pile of crumpled dollar bills, just to keep playing barter 6 on repeat. some old bastard in a cowboy hat spit tobacco in my direction—he didn’t have to say a word, but we knew we weren’t welcome.
an hour later, or maybe more—hell, who’s counting?—chase talked me into popping an adderall or two, like it was no big deal. “come on, man, what’s the worst that could happen?” famous last words, but at that point, i was already neck-deep in bad decisions.
by the time dawn started creeping through the cracks in the blinds, i was back in my hotel room, finishing off the last of the warm beer, the room spinning just enough to make sleep a distant idea. i had an 11am flight, and the bed felt like an insult more than a place to rest. no point trying, but i laid there anyway, staring at the ceiling, counting every minute that passed.
i don’t remember the flight at all. i must’ve boarded in some half-conscious daze, but what i do remember is sitting in the airport before that, saint pablo by kanye on repeat, trying to will myself into some version of confidence, or maybe just enough ego to keep my damn eyes open. i thought maybe if i channeled that energy, that delusional, misguided bravado, i’d make it through.
the thing is, there’s nothing lonelier than an empty terminal when your mind’s fried, and you’re running on fumes.
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RIP to the greatest to ever do it. Your legacy is immense and awe-inspiring. Thank you.
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Us living as we do upside down And the new word to have is revolution People don't even want to hear the preacher Spill or spiel because God's whole card has been thoroughly piqued And America is now blood and tears instead of milk and honey The youngsters who were programmed to continue Fucking up woke up one night digging Paul Revere and Nat Turner as the good guys America stripped for bed and we had not all yet closed our eyes
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Nike Peak Performance Swim Camp Students
UMass, Boston, circa 2016
Shot by me
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The End of the Road
Winstar Casino, Oklahoma, circa 2015
Shot by me
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Rebecca
Hell’s Kitchen, NYC, circa 2017
Shot by me
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Phresh Hieroglyphics Interviews, Pt. 1
Fort Lauderdale, Florida , circa 2014
Shot by me
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